Saturday, October 29, 2011

Excerpt from "The House that Silence Bought"



..."Though a crucial part of this story has to do with the events of
an actual abuse case, the greater portion has to do with the backstory        
and the scandalous disclosures that surfaced later. There is a
chance that if my son had never been injured many of these dysfunctions
would have never come to the surface. In life, when people
know who they are and who they can trust, they develop confidence
and good judgment. If they do not have those things, they tend
to become destabilized and flawed. In my life, there was always
this churning cloud of mystery, doubt, and deception. Shedding
light upon those dark places was both scary and uncomfortable, and
yet it was very much worth the effort. The journey depicted here
was laden with unfathomable sorrow and dejection, but also with
great love and courage. Every person has a presence, or an influence,
with which they can make their existence known in the world.
Providing this account gives my son, Jordan, that chance. Some
time ago, my children and I faced an appalling tragedy. During this
time, and on more than one occasion, we were given sanctuary and
hope at Penelope House in Mobile, Alabama. We are appreciative
for the encouragement, assistance, and counseling received as part
of our case management. They also made referrals for us at other
local agencies that provided needed support and resources. When
it seemed that very few people could be bothered with us, the staff
was there showing an unending supply of compassion and respect..."


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle







(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters
















If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children. 

Monday, October 17, 2011

...On the Bright Side...

********************************************************************************



Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children. 




I get criticized sometimes for living in the past because I talk openly about abuse. But it is not true. I live right now in 1987...ha! just kidding I know its the 90's already... ha, again...lol

Seriously speaking I live in the now of 2012. I have two wonderful kids. I work part-time. I write this somewhat useful blog. And I have a novel out...called "The House that Silence Bought".

But this blog is meant for those who are in the trenches, right now...and in order to let them know that I feel their pain...I have to dig deep and share the most uncomfortable parts of my past...and I don't mind. I don't mind because rarely a week goes by when someone doesn't stop and thank me for being bold, courageous and available. And that is a very good thing. Think if I hadn't survived. Think if I had given up. Think if I was still in the trenches.

I have a bright side...in fact I get a lot of criticism for being too bubbly, to optimistic...and irritatingly happy...I can't help it...even as fierce as life was in the trenches it didn't beat it out of me...yeah!!!

Maybe it was because I was such a polly-do-gooder that I attracted mean guys...ha...that is funny and wrong...I attracted broke, mainly because I was broken and couldn't see it...let's see all the situations I can blame my brokenness on...my mom was mentally challenged, my parents divorced, my dad remarried, I was cast aside, my first marriage was abusive and it set the tone for all of my other relationships, I am too trusting, I am not trusting enough, I was sexualized too early, I was intense, overly sensitive and insecure as a child...naw...see none of things made me, broken...they made have helped facilitate brokenness...but there is nothing to blame it on except that I was in fact broken and had no clue about what to do about it.

And I was the worse kind of broken...the kind that thinks they are ok...the kind that thinks they are better than the alcoholic, drug addict, prostitute...when deep down my addictions were just a bit more socially acceptable than the normal bad habits that enslave us.

I got married as a form of addiction...when my dad remarried, I didn't fit in...not that first time in the chronicles of mankind that had happened...so I set out to marry and make my own damned family...only how on earth would I have known how to do that? Nada...I was incredibly bright, but I still didn't know diddly about building a healthy family life. So I went from bad relationship to worse relationship...never quite seeing what it was about me that kept attracting broken...and that is not to say that I deserved to be treated badly...its just I was only attracting guys who would treat me badly...ouch...and what a wake of destruction would follow...wow...

And my family? a lot of them not worth the ammunition to blast them across the street...some were ok...but mostly broken people themselves...and critical and judgmental...and mean spirited...so I did find it hard to fix myself when I really had no safe place to lick my wounds.

But I have figured some of it out...and what I have figured out is that you can re-parent yourself...you can rise above...and you can accomplish things you never thought possible.

Whatever it is that you didn't get from your parents...your childhood...your previous relationships...guess what...you can find a way to get it...to learn better...to chose better...heck, google it if you have to...because the information is out there...on how to overcome insecurity, on how to put up better, healthier emotional boundaries...on how to cook...on how to balance a checkbook...whatever it is that can fill the void...find it...take a class...sit through a seminar...do the work...become the person you want to be...and rather than being left for dead by those who abuse you...forsake you...and cast you aside...be the exception...be the beacon that beckons others who are broken too.


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle




(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).








Boldness, Rape and other Inconveniences...






















(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).





So I am fairly bold about what I share here. why? Because what would have been the point of enduring a hardship if you cannot reach out and help someone else who now sits in crisis?
I also run a blog regarding abuse... empoweringwomen88.blogspot.com
So what is on my mind tonight? Rape...why? mainly because it bites...and I have been there. And people who have been raped and felt they couldn't open up about it, need a forum to openly share.
My parents are social and friendly with a man who raped me. How is that supposed to make me feel? It is not bad enough to have someone exert power over you...leaving you to feel helpless, shamed and wounded...but to have him be a good ol' boy who everyone seems to like, well, that bites.
First we have to get into the gnarly aspects of defining rape...because 200 years ago it was thought to be impossible for a husband to rape his own wife...after all she wasn't much more than property...but today she is not thought of as property...she is a human...who, even in God's eyes, has free will...and I am not suggesting that shrews who withhold sex as a form of mental abuse to lord over their husbands are any better...but that wasn't my case.
On average we had sex at least once to twice a week. So I wasn't withholding. And within the framework of the first 2 years of my marriage I enjoyed sex with him. But then it started to be about only gratifying him. It started to feel like rape, even long before he took advantage. I have no idea if he was raped or abused as a child...it stands to reason that he probably was...when a person sees others as merely objects designed to service them, abuse is usually the culprit. But being abused as a child...or being sexualized too early...is still not an excuse...because we also live in a society where we can get therapy...we can get treatment...we can flush old tapes and re-write our emotional hard drives as needed...so it isn't merely a question of him being abused and acting out...it is a question of him not getting help as a grown person and then inflicting his bent, selfish will upon me...and honestly on other females as well.
At this sitting I do not know if he has gotten help. If he has yeah!!! but doesn't it stand to reason that if he had he would somewhere deep inside feel as though he owes me an apology of some sort for violating me?
Yeah...except he doesn't.
In fact he low rates me at every opportunity. He tells people I am crazy, supposedly just like my mother...yet sadly my mother has nothing to do with his abusive nature.
But what always amazes me is that he is a friend of my dad and step-mother's. I am am the butt of jokes and put downs because they are friends. Does my family want to acknowledge him as abusive...or as ever having been abusive? Nope...in their eyes he is just that famous good ol' boy.
This is so painful...the drive you too drink and do drugs kind of pain...the scream your head off because its insane kind of pain...the what in the hell is wrong with my family kind of pain.
Denial is a tool that is only supposed to be used for a short while until our real coping skills kick in...in my family denial is on overload...because 20 plus years is not a short while.
So to those of you who have been raped...either by a stranger, by a friend or even by a husband, I understand. Rape is about control. Rape bends and twists its victims. Fortunately we do not have to stay victims. We can post, we can blog...and we can be bold about what we faced...hopefully so that when others read it they know they can raise about their situations as well.
I used to cry into my pillow when he would touch me; I felt like someone else, namely his mother, was in bed with us; and if I said "no" I would be coerced, not romanced or seduced, but just coerced; and if I dared to pretend I was sick or asleep, well, he would take it...and controlling another person with fear, intimidation or violence is...rape...taking someone against their will is rape.
Did I mention I share two incredible kids with this man? Bites for me...and them.

So family ...you are breaking bread with, and thinking the world of... someone who raped me...what on earth do you want me to think of you...for not wanting to hear about it...not wanting to face it...and not doing anything to support me???
Only God can offer the kind of forgiveness needed to ever have anything to do with either of you this side of heaven.


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle






If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children. 

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Letter to the Editor ~ Homelessness Revisited

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(published in New Era Nov 2010)

Homelessness can be defined many ways by different people. Oregon’s Ending Homelessness Advisory Council’s definition of homelessness includes those who: “…share the housing of other persons due to loss of housing, economic hardship, personal safety, or a similar reason.” It is these definitions that help local agencies determine who gets services.
Recently my two children and I became homeless, displaced and transient. It happens to a lot of people in life. In our situation it was due to an impending divorce. Almost immediately I started rallying together whatever resources I could to try and make a break from the situation. I needed to know what to do next; because what was being offered seemed neither reasonable nor healthy. By most standards I am educated, capable and employable; so I could eventually rebuild a life for my two kids and I. Part of what complicated the issue was not just the children collectively, but I have a son who is partially blind and disabled. So I started making lists as to what all I needed to do to get us out of this situation. So I started calling friends, family members, church members and associates to see what ideas could be put together. Most of our family lived down South, so we were lacking in a local support network.

In the midst of this I mentioned to one of friends that the kids and I might have to possibly stay at The Hope Center here in town, or maybe somewhere in Albany. After more than a few conversations the friend and her husband made the offer for the three of us to rent a room from them. I was so hurt and depleted because of the circumstances that I took them up on their offer; and spent the next few days crying myself to sleep. I was happy we had not been relegated to living in our small car. However, as a mom needing to provide for her two children I felt that the temporary solution, however welcomed, still left us in a very vulnerable and precarious position. Local resource agencies that I contacted for help classified the three of us as being homeless. It was very hard to hear. Words like displaced and transient are perhaps a bit more palatable to accept in this scenario; yet the word homeless was still what each organization said. It was scary to realize that very little separated us from being on the streets; and it was sobering that it could all shift very quickly and without notice. It was only ten years ago, right after Jordan had been injured, we had lived in shelters for six months; and now the memories of such came flooding back.

As individuals we may have different ideas of what it means to be homeless. It is almost as if we think of homelessness in terms of levels. Some levels we are comfortable with, like displaced and transient; and other levels make us uncomfortable. I am not sure that there should be varying degrees of homeless. Our experience has been humbling, stringent and confining. After all, my children and I did not ask for this to happen; and that is true of the bulk of homeless situations. The question then is: should my kids and I have to be living under a bridge in order to get care and compassion? Of course the answer is no.

I write all of this, not just to help people redefine their ideas of homelessness, but also to get people to extend themselves to homeless people regardless of which level of homelessness they occupy. Positions like what my children and I experienced happen a lot more frequently than most people are willing to admit. The homeless are not only living in cars and under bridges; they sometimes have jobs and stand in line next to you at the grocery store.

Only a few weeks back I had notified our pastor that I wanted to be part of the team of volunteers that would be helping down at The Hope Center; and now weeks later my kids and I are struggling with the same needs and fears as other homeless people. We now rely on a handful of dear friends and many strangers. Some people have been very warm and supportive. But some people have told me not to tell people that we are homeless. I guess I should be embarrassed to admit such a thing. That sounds like pride; and pride has no place in this circumstance. Hopefully people will remember that the next time they encounter a homeless person and they are tempted to turn away. Pride and “keeping up appearances” actually helps to facilitate people becoming homeless in the first place.

We became homeless; and it was not of our own making. We needed help; but so too does every other homeless person out there in our community. Perhaps my daughter, my disabled son and I give atypical faces to homelessness; and if homelessness can happen to us then it can happen to anyone.

I would love it if we as a community would shift all of our preconceived ideas of what we think it means to be homeless and just love on those who are. If enough wonderful people in Sweet Home lend a hand to their neighbors or even contact City Council as to how they can help, we as a community can make a difference.

“Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold” Andre Maurois

Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle










(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters





If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.



...Letting Go






(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).






...having a love you can't hold onto is a fairly common theme in life...i just watched "Becoming Jane"...and what if she had been happily married...and yet her marriage caused grief...would she have become the same jane austen to have written 6 of the best written, most touching stories in all of literature? who knows? i have had love like that...the ones that are better to have let go, than pursued...it's eleven years later...so maybe enough time has passed to say that i loved someone who was better to have left alone...the pain of it so mirrors the deepest pain in my life...that i have been unable to even approach the subject in the last eleven years...later this year...and into next year my first novel is coming out...it is fiction, but based on a true story...only there was a part of the story i couldn't tell, even under the cloak of being fictionalized...
i loved a man in 2000...a man i had known over 20 years, and yet didn't really know at all...i had been so sweet on him...for so long...that he was probably the only guy with the power to completely "undo" me...and in the end he did undo me...those of us who write are spurned on by great love...and great tragedy...polite company hates to hear this, but he was a great love...but how do you admit loving a man who could hurt your child...?and i don't mean just slap or spank your kid...i mean cause your child to come close to death...what kind of barrier must that be to loving someone?...
few people can grasp what that feel like...heck, just talking about it makes people fighting mad...but i did love him...i remember the day i met him...i remember almost every time of ever having encountered him...i remember wanting him to be the first guy i ever kissed, or dated, or even had sex with...he was none of those things...but i remember wanting him to be...and even through the years i would wonder what he was up to...wonder if he had ever had a crush on me...and wonder why there was this gulf that kept us from being able to fall in love and grow old together...and now in light of how things turned out...with most people thinking he was a monster...does it make me one too because i loved him? i know that it doesn't...but it all still just hurts...in 2000...this friend...this guy that i thought i had been sweet on since junior high almost killed my son...my son was only 7 months old
can you imagine what that felt like?...it wasn't like we had a fight...or one of us cheated on the other...instead i take my son to the hospital for what i think is pneumonia...and less that a week later this guy...that i loved...is arrested for being the one to have crushed my son's skull...that isn't something anyone could ever get past...
and with everything that followed then i have to just instantly stop loving him...i mean he reached monster status...and we just don't love monsters do we? how could i ever admit that i loved this guy?
it was all just a bit much to process...my son almost died...for pity's sake he was an infant...extracting my emotions from having ever loved this guy was a nightmare...
my son is now 11...he is partially blind, walks with a limp, has seizures, is developmentally delayed/mildly retarded, and has autism...i have a daily reminder...a beautiful, disabled...reminder...that i once loved a person most people want dead...its such an odd, odd position to have ever been in.


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.

Approval Addiction


...ever reach a point where you can no longer stomach something? I am there...and it is curious because some days are good...and some hard...but today I can bear it no longer... it is hard when you have gone most of your life between being a doormat and a royal "beehive"...especially when in reality you are always somehwere in the middle...assertive is good...but when you are not practiced at it you might feel that you will explode when confronted/or required to confront...

...but the truth is you won't expolde...and assertiveness is better than being a doormat...and much better than being a "beehive"...

...I am in a very difficult position...and sadly have to confront someone who is very immature, volitile and full of pride...but what I am learning about assertiveness is that we are not responsible for how someone views us...we are however responsible for putting proper boundaries around ourselves...being respectful...and being responsible...none of which requires that we take on other poeple's issues...it bends and sometimes breaks us when we have to measure wat we say...walk on egg shells...or have to spoon feed people...especailly the immature, volitile and those full of pride.

I don't want to marry you...I am not confortable with this situation...I don't want to have sex with you...things like this have always been hard on me...why? freakin approval addiction...it was crippling...

But it is true...there comes a time when the only person you can for approval is yourself...that's a very scary and unnerving day.

Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle






(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters














If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.

Audacity and More


If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.

*********************************************************************************


...I was not born in the South...unless you count Southern California as the South...lol...but in the true South are found many wonderful traditions...saying "yes m'am...and please and thank you..." and great cooking...and incredible thunderstorms...but between the pleasantries is one tradition the South could do without...in relation to domestic abuse they tend not to talk about it...which...sadly perpetuates it. Between 1999 and 2001 the kids and I were in women's shelters no less than 3 times. Looking back the best thing that can be said is that at least there women's shelters to go to in the area. That is the best and the worst that can be said.
I started back to college from a shelter. My children spent close to two years growing up in a shelter. The first time we were in a shelter my son, Jordan, was only 6 weeks old. It was an odd way for them to grow up; and yet if there had been no shelters their lives would have been even worse. One of the challenges for women in that position getting help is when abuse is discounted, excused and facilitated. Since people in the South are relatively mannerly this can happen a lot down there. I sat at a many times with a lady who had been belittled, hit and humiliated by her husband and refused to tell his family or hers because it wasn't the polite southern thing to do. She came and went a couple of times during the times we were there. The last time she had been so severly beaten that she had soiled herself all over her kitchen floor. That same week her son had been accepted in to medical school and family was coming for a visit. She was more concerned with the friends and family coming for a visit, and not revealing her abuse, than she was concerned with securing a safe place. And her situation wasn't even as extreme as some.
But that is the point...there shouldn't be varying degrees of abuse...being cussed at and threatened on a regular basis is as abusive as having the hell beat out of you. In fact many times women in the shelter said they would rather have the daylights beat out of them, because that would heal, rather than to be cussed and threatened.
The yardstick shouldn't be "other people's opinions" but rather that which makes a woman feel unsafe.
I had the added joy of dealing with the fact that my ex was liked by my family...and is even liked as of today. How is that possible? Partly because "good 'ol boys" are excused in the South. Partly because no one wanted to deal squarely with the entire dysfunctional dynamic. And partly because it is easier to not get involved.
I do think that some abusive people can read something like this and be shamed into thinking about their behaviors...but most will not. If hurting people, hurt people then abusers are the most hurting of all.
It would be interesting for my family to find out that admist the terror of yelling, cussing, threats, throwing things and whatever else that was spewed from my ex husband...never once came an apology...he always pointed out what he was "made to do". I could tell he had been abused...but that never got dealt with...at least not in the scope of our relationship.
Why should I care? I share two incredible kids with this man.
Some of my family made my life a living hell by not believing that he was abusive. The chasm of which had yet to be bridged. Why? because I could not be taught that lovliest of Southern traits of turning a blind eye to his abusive nature.
I am grateful to Penelope House in Mobile, Alabama for cutting through the crap and "being there".


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle






(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Thursday, August 25, 2011

Living "The House that Silence Bought"


If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.



****************************************************************


My first novel "The House that Silence Bought" is now out for public release!!!!!

Abuse rarely happens in a vacuum. There are usually people and situations that help facilitate. In my case I wasn't believed. And then there was the added complication that my step-mother was friends with my abusive husband. I have found that a lot of women have gone through this. They report that their husband is abusive only to be squelched and disregarded. This dynamic sets the stage for going back to an abusers.

I figured that he must not have been as bad as I thought if my parents liked him.

This left me trapped and feeling damaged; even more so than his eventual abuse.


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle









(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).



Wednesday, July 6, 2011

A Different Kind of Abuse

It is difficult to be a loud-mouth that speaks about abuse and not have been nearly obsessed with the Casey Anthony trial last year:
...all the legal mumbo/jumbo aside...at the very least someone should have been shamed enough by the trial to have been forthcoming about the actual details of what happened...there is no shame anymore...even if Caylee had accidentally died on whoever's watch...they still covered her death so that whoever did neglect her wouldn't get turned in...that is outrageous...and no one in that family was courageous enough to have shared, with any humility, what actually happened...so in this case at least, dysfunction won...philosophically Caylee was murdered by dysfunction...and nothing was done to get this horribly hurting family any real help...and yet, they continue to function is regular society as though their only sin was being broken...and an innocent child is dead...sacrificed for their lies and secrets...it is ill.

At the heart of a lot of these cases is family dysfunction.; hurting people inflicting their inadequacies upon each other until all that is left is lies and denial.


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle




(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).




If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.